


Loose Pages

by GuiltyConscience



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Amnesia, forget-me-not AU, implied animal abuse/testing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:03:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8474623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuiltyConscience/pseuds/GuiltyConscience
Summary: A mish-mash of drabbles, blurbs, and mini fics.





	1. Whoops

_Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back,_

 

Tord stares at Ringo in fear as the cat sits in his door way calmly washing his paw as if nothing had ever happened between the two of them.

Tord stumbles back and plunks down onto his bed with a hand raking through his hair in relief and disbelief. He should never have let his curiosity get the better of him, and yet… it paid off.

Ringo, very much alive, lets out a meow and heads for the living room with a flick of his tail. Maybe Edd wasn’t going to kill him after all.

A grin slowly grows on Tord’s face.

 

_Cats have nine lives,_

_And that was just one,_

_Maybe there’s time,_

_For a little more fun?_


	2. Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom's morning goes better than expected

Tom awoke with a groan and covered his head in blankets as his phone pinged and hummed to life. A sharp slice of sun cut through his curtains and the thermostat kicked on with a whir to fight the cold coming in. He would have ignored the phone normally, but the humming vibration was amplified by his bedside table urging him to pick it up.

There were several attempts for a blind grab, so he could stay hidden in the sheets and ignore the glaring rays of sun, but when the fourth attempt resulted in the corner of the night table jabbing the back of his hand he had to give in.

The mound of sheets rose from the bed and slowly fell away to reveal the drowsy man in all his bed-headed glory, one of the covers still draped over his head like a hood. One heavy hand reaches out to silence the phone, sliding it off the hardwood and dragging it into closer view for inspection.

Despite his phones insistence that he must pick it up, there is only a text, and Tom debates ignoring it and going back to sleep. That is, until he sees who it’s from.

_\- Message from Tim -_

Tom sits a little straighter, hands cradling his phone fondly, and the blankets fall from his head to rest on the pillows behind him. A small smile grows on his face that warms with a gentle touch from the sun as he types a reply.

Today is going to be a good day.


	3. Bread -Forget-Me-Not AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner rolls were unacceptable. 
> 
> Based on Minubell's Forget-Me-Not AU

It took you a while to notice. It was a peculiar thing, the sudden change in taste, very selective too. Some breads were fine, sliced whole wheat was accepted, rye, pumpernickel, anything with a sharp taste was accepted in any shape or form. White breads, however, were suspicious. Certain buns, subs, and sweet breads like raisin were met with great hesitance, only being eaten when someone else was sharing it with him.

Dinner rolls were unacceptable. 

You had tentatively asked Tom about it, having only seen the change after the kidnapping of Tord and Tom himself.

Tom had frozen at the question, avoiding eye contact, arm creeping up his chest until his closed hand rested on his collar bone. He was trying very hard to stay calm, keep his breathing even but…

“Ahhh..” His attempt to respond came as a wavering inhale, a shudder, and sharp exhale like a cut off attempt to laugh off his nerves.

A second attempt was more successful even if the answer was strained and he quickly left the kitchen saying he had things to do.

Sweet he had said.

But you would never think of dinner rolls being sweet, salty maybe, or garlicy but never really sweet… And why would this only come about now? It never was a problem before.

You sigh looking at the recipe in your cookbook. You didn’t think 2 tablespoons of sugar was a lot but apparently Tom though otherwise. While his new preferences could be a little disheartening, trying new recipes was actually quite fun.

You flipped to the next page in the cookbook which immediately look much more promising.

Sourdough bread.

Yes, that would do.


	4. Let The Ghost Stay Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The house feels empty sometimes

"Does the house feel... empty to you, sometimes?"

Your gaze jumps from the blank page up to Matt who's standing behind the couch. He's caught in a beam of sunlight that sets his hair aflame and gives his skin a gentle glow. His distant gaze looks down the hall almost through the door of Tom's new room and you wonder what he's thinking. You don't know how he does it but, there are moments like these where he manages to smash your art block, you want to capture his visage on the paper right then and there.

You're caught in the moment trying to commit the view to memory for later when Matt breaks the spell, turning to look at you.

"Edd?"

You jolt in shock.

"Ah, sorry Matt..." You rub the back of your neck sheepishly, "What were you asking?"

He pauses to give you a look then turns back to face the hall again and repeats, "The house, it feels  kind of empty, doesn't it?"

You follow his gaze to Tom's room again and wonder yourself. It has been rather quiet recently of course, but not empty, the three of you fill the house quite nicely. The lack of bickering has been a rather pleasant change.

You turn back to Matt catching his gaze, "What makes you think it's empty?"

Matt's brow scrunches and he looks off trying to find words or answers, maybe... a memory?

"It's-" he inhales, "It's like something's missing."

There's something of a whining frustration to his voice. His gaze drops to his hands where he mimes something like a box, then frowns and shakes his head.

"Or someone..."

You sit back at that, tapping the edge of your page with the pencil, and give him a good, long, look.

Last week when he was setting the table for supper he had put out enough places for four people. When you had asked why he had taken far longer to answer than normal and had this same frustrated look on. He had taken a full three minutes of silence before saying he had done it simply because it looked better. You accepted the answer because it's just like Matt to want things to look just right.

When he had made popcorn for movie night he had made four bowls of popcorn instead of three. Again, when asked why, the same look crossed his face before announcing it was for them to share.  A little strange, but ok.

And yet yesterday, he had asked for keys to a car you didn't have.

  _'Did you mean for the go-karts Matt?'_

_'Ah, no. Never mind. I just thought...'_

Dust motes float through the beam of sunlight and drift down onto the empty page of your sketchbook.

"Matt...Do you..."

 It seems even the air stills at the start of your thought.

Matt's gaze bores though you as if he dares your to ask. A different look of irritation, near anger, settles on his face.

Like you haven't already asked a thousand times.

Like _he_ hasn't already answered a million more.

And Tom doesn't want to hear a _word_ of the man now forgotten.

"No. Never mind. I just thought..."

 

Matt tsks and then demands loudly to the house "When are we going to _do_ anything around here!? I'm so boooored."

You can't help but laugh, a muffled answer comes from Toms room as he comes to join the two of you in the living room, and Matt continues to gripe about the lack of action.

The house fills with the sound of the three of you as you begin to plan your day and the emptiness felt just moments before is left forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> First blurb inspired by the fic summary of Zernia's story 'Why?'


End file.
